


Routine Procedure

by Oryx_Gazella



Category: Don't Hug Me I'm Scared (Short Film)
Genre: F/M, This is terrible, woah im back
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2814737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryx_Gazella/pseuds/Oryx_Gazella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's out for the day, and Paige has the house to herself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine Procedure

**Author's Note:**

> This fic references like four past fics; cooperation, payback, scavenger hunt, and deprivation  
> you dont HAVE to read them but ya know it might help  
> also blood gore death organ violence and medical stuff  
> sorry im garbage  
> theres deleted scenes on my tumblr if you want extra trash

Paige was armed to the teeth and it wasn’t even noon.  Tony was planning something _unpleasant,_ she could tell.  He was undoubtedly more determined now that she had interfered with his last attempt; _that_ little fact was probably going to make everything much worse… _if_ he succeeded. 

Having a defined plan wasn’t like him, and she didn’t want any part of it.  Thankfully he wasn’t trying to keep her up again, and was actually sleeping according to his typical rigid schedule. 

            Still, she slept lightly, one hand wrapped around the hilt of a kitchen knife hidden under her pillow.  The blade had been coated with sodium cyanide; she only needed to land one good stab to kill him. 

            Needle tools were sunk into her mattress, at just the right spots for her to grab one in a flash and slam it into his face.  She had a small kitchen blowtorch nestled somewhere under her abundance of blankets. 

            The lock on her door was left intact throughout the night, her preparations proving to be unnecessary.  She woke up almost disappointed. 

            She hopped out of bed.  It wouldn’t do to cower in her room all day, even if she was… _apprehensive_ about what Tony was planning.  Fortunately, he seemed to be trying to disarm her first; she just had to make sure that didn’t happen.  Sabotaging his attempts again would probably discourage him from the entire plan, and he’d be far too impatient to try it again.

            Paige considered her weaponry.  The ever-popular knives, a variety of scissors, some nice long knitting needles sharpened to a deadly state, piano wire, a full spectrum of poison, a small, handheld blowtorch, carving tools…the list went on. 

            Ordinarily she’d choose the best thing to out-maneuver that sword of his, but chances were he wouldn’t be using it to kill her.  She slipped the blowtorch into her pocket, dipped the blades of three carving knives in paralytics, and tucked a particularly sharp fountain pen behind her ear.  Paige fluffed her hair, tilting her head around in a mirror to ensure they were properly hidden.

            She marched downstairs, ears pricked up for any noise.  He’d probably be sitting in the living room, pretending to be nonchalant and relaxed, waiting for her to drop her guard.  He’d be disappointed.  

            The lights were off in the kitchen.  She strolled into the similarly-darkened living room, expecting to see him in the armchair, engrossed in some dull book.  

The workshop, then.  She _probably_ shouldn’t be actively looking for him, but…at least she’d get an idea of where he was and start planning around him.  Paige spun around, strolling to the back hallway.  All she really needed to do was see if the door was closed or not; if it was shut he was in there, and if not, well…  She’d figure it out if it-

The door was wide open, room empty.  Paige balked in the doorway, unsure of what to do now.  Tony wasn’t in any of his habitual spots, and she had paced all the way through the house without being pounced on.  What was he _doing_?  This kind of game wasn’t like him at all.

Paige collected herself quickly.  If he was trying to shake her, it wouldn’t work.  She could handle whatever uninspired plan he was trying to set up. 

She made her way back to the kitchen, admittedly frustrated.  Could he be out digging around in a dusty antique store?  Their roommates were still out of the house; ordinarily she wouldn’t care, but now she wished at least one of them had been left behind.  _They_ would've been up early enough to know where Tony had gone, or at least whether he was in the house or not.

              Paige put a kettle of water on to boil.  She kept tea leaves in her poison cabinet to discourage any thievery; Tony preferred coffee for the most part, but occasionally he’d opt for tea instead, and wouldn’t hesitate to take hers.  While she was there, Paige examined her poison collection.  Was anything out of place?  Felt a little too light?  She didn’t put it past him, but he’d regret it.

            She narrowed her eyes at the jars and bottles, suspicious.  Sniffing at the canister of tea leaves, she gave one of the dried leaves a hesitant lick and waited while the water boiled.  After a few minutes with no ill effects, she deemed the tea safe and without any tampering.  Paige tossed the leaves into the strainer and poured the hot water over them, waiting only for the water to cool to a tolerable temperature to drink it.  Tony had watched her do that once, and complained she wasn’t allowing the tea to steep for the _right amount of tiiime_ ; Paige happened to like the changing intensity of the tea as she drank it.

            Pulling herself up onto the counter, Paige sipped her tea and evaluated her options.  Tony very well _could_ be out of the house; maybe he had ‘more important things to do’ than starting a fight.  She could be fatally wrong, but every minute that ticked by without an impatient huff from some hiding spot made it less likely.

            Paige decided she’d go about her day as normal, but keep alert.  No use exhausting herself with paranoia only to hear him stroll in the front door at 6 pm. 

            She hopped down, shoes clacking against the tile.  Maybe she’d ‘adjust’ some clocks to make up for the unease he had put her through; the calming effect that messing with Tony’s things brought was just an added bonus.

            The warm mug was her only accompaniment into the empty living room.  Their roommates would hopefully return from their vacation soon, the house was so _boring_ without them.  Paige gently placed one pitch black finger on the face of the clock, stopping the twitching second hand in its tracks.  It stuttered against her skin, valiantly trying to advance.  She half expected Tony to burst through the door now, alerted by some clock-based sixth sense.  She released the second hand, now properly out of sync and behind the rest.    

            After doing the same to a few more, Paige decided on a walk through the woods.  Maybe she’d find some new wildflower or mushroom that had sprouted, or an adder coiled up in the leaves. 

            Even without a particularly good find, the woods relaxed her.  It was almost certain she’d be safe out here; Tony was entirely graceless in the woods, always complaining about dirt or water or insects, tripping over rocks, and generally blundering around.  Paige could glide through the underbrush without alerting a single bird. 

            Amid the scent of damp leaves and flowers Paige found a cluster of destroying angel mushrooms; she plucked half of the group, mentally recording the area for another day when more might’ve grown.  

            Paige wandered around the forest for a while longer, intending to and succeeding in getting a bit lost.  She managed to forget all about whatever Tony was up to as she wove her way through the trees, at least for a little bit.  Thoughts of that bastard returned once the house came back into view, and Paige gave an involuntary sneer at the reminder.

            Was he home yet?  All the lights were still off; he _had_ to be out of the house.  There was _no way_ he’d wait for this long.  No amount of revenge would entice him to _waste time_ hiding like that.

            Once inside, Paige set to work slicing the mushrooms and arranging them on a screen to dry.  She set them in a sunny window; they’d be ready in two days or so.

            What to do now?  It was still light out, and she was in an outdoorsy mood; her garden could use some tending. 

            Paige hummed lightly on her way back outside, heading to the ever-expanding patch of foliage.  She pulled a few weeds before deciding to convert another patch of lawn into garden, and headed for the shed.

            The wooden door stuck a bit when she pulled on it, but after a harder yank it popped open, throwing a weak stream of light into the dark shed.  Paige strolled inside, heading for the shovels leaning against the far wall. 

            Something slammed hard across her throat, forcing a shocked choking noise from her. 

            It dragged Paige backwards, her heel scraping across the concrete floor, too surprised to offer any initial resistance.

            She was pressed against Tony, the pressure on her neck increasing as he tightened his hold.  Paige kicked, clawing hard at his arm; the pen fell from behind her ear, clattering to the ground. 

            “ _Get the fuck off me_.”  She choked, one hand scrabbling for her pocket full of weapons. 

            “You kept me _waiting,_ sweetheart.”  He murmured, his voice infuriatingly calm. 

            Paige thrashed in his grip, ink dripping from her neck and hands. 

            “You couldn’t have gardened _first_?  You _had_ to go for a _two hour and twenty-four minute_ walk in the woods?”  His voice bounced slightly as Paige fought; his face was half-buried in her hair, mouth nearly against her ear.

             She struggled to inhale as his other arm wrapped crushingly around her waist, covering the pocket on her dress and cutting off access to her knives.  Paige clawed at the arm around her throat, up under his sleeve, ink-coated nails sinking into his wrist.

             “This would’ve been so much _easier_ for both of us if you would’ve _cooperated_ the first time, you know.” 

            Paige kicked backwards, bashing her heel against his shin.  He gave a pained yell, the hold on her throat loosening just enough for her to gasp in a breath of air. 

            Her reprieve was short lived; Tony recovered quickly and cut off her air once again, lifting her off her feet.  Paige didn’t let up fighting; she knew she was going to start feeling lightheaded soon, as the blood vessels in her neck were compressed.  Caustic ink flowed into the fresh wounds she was raking across his arm, but he wasn’t letting go. 

            How long did she have?  His hold was sloppy, cutting off more air than bloodflow; it’d take much more time to go unconscious like this-

            She didn’t feel _lightheaded_.  She felt… _tired_.

_That cheating fucking bastard was accelerating time on her_.

            “ _Tony_ -“ she snarled.

            “ _Shhhh_ , love.”  He purred.  His grip loosened, allowing her to breathe freely, but she couldn’t find the strength to writhe away.  Her racing heart slowed.

            Paige gave a weak, desperate kick as exhaustion weighed down on her.  Her hands dropped away from his arm, coming away in sticky lines of blood and ink to hang limply at her sides.

            Soon she was too sleepy to support herself, her muscles feeling heavy and clumsy; Tony was the only thing holding her upright. 

            “Ffffuck y…” she mumbled to the blurry floor.

            Tony pressed a kiss to the side of her jaw as she passed out.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

            There was no peaceful moment of sleepiness when Paige awoke; she knew right away that she was in an… _unfavorable_ situation.  Before her eyes even opened or the feeling returned to her body, she knew this was bad. 

            Paige blinked at the harsh light pointed straight into her eyes.  She turned her face away, looking to the side and recognizing the room; it was the kitchen.  She was…on the table? 

            Her arms caught at the wrist and jingled when she tried to sit up; predictable.  She took a deep breath and looked up to see just how bad her situation was.

            Thick metal shackles encircled her wrists, holding them above her head.  The chains had a bit of slack, allowing for a small amount of movement, but the range was useless.  She couldn’t see what they were attached to; the metal lead somewhere off the table.  She tried and failed to shift her legs; they were probably bound in a similar manner, though she couldn’t quite see over her fluffy skirts.

            Paige grit her teeth; it’d take a while for her to corrode through the metal cuffs.  Ink bled from her wrists, and she tried to keep it from being too obvious. 

            “Rise and shine, darling!”  Tony called from the doorway. 

            Paige gave a disgusted scoff.  She raised her head toward him.

            “You _fucking cheated_.”  She snarled. 

            His smirk disappeared.  “It was necessary.  Is that all you can think about right now?”

            “I can think about how satisfying cutting off your bragging is.”

            Tony sighed, closing his eyes and bringing his hand to his forehead.  He turned away, leaving the room.

            Paige huffed and stared at the wall.  She was…concerned.  Of course, she wouldn’t let Tony know, but she couldn’t help but admit it to herself.  He _cheated_ to get her here; he clearly didn’t like being reminded of it, but that hadn’t stopped him.  He was adamant enough about killing her that he’d forgo his own rules, and that was troubling.

            There was nothing to do other than lie there and wait, making minimal progress in corroding the metal cuffs.  She was bored.

            Footsteps approached.  Paige steeled herself, ready to snap back with sarcastic replies. 

            What caught her attention immediately as he entered was that he had abandoned his coat.  He intended to get messy.  A light jingling noise rang out with every step he took, and he set down a tacklebox on a smaller table by her side.

            “I hope you’re comfortable, dear.” 

            “Not especially.”

            “That’s a shame.”  He opened the case; she acted disinterested, but really, it had to be full of knives.

            The metal-on-metal clinking as he dug around inside told her that she was right.  He pulled out something thin and silver…a pair of scissors-

            “Hey!”  Paige snapped.  “Those are mine!”

            “Very observant, darling.”

            “Stay out of my room, asshole!”

            “I hope you’ll forgive me some day.”  He said, reaching toward her throat to take hold of the collar of her dress. 

            Paige couldn’t help but inhale sharply and hold her breath as he brought the scissors near her; she knew _just_ how sharp they were.

            Tony cut methodically through the cloth, the blades snipping easily through the fabric with a clean, unnerving sound.  Paige hoped her tensed muscles weren’t too noticeable.  She regretted not trying to bite when his hands were near her face…

            Tony moved slowly; good.  The more time he wasted on trying to intimidate her, the more of a chance she had to burn through the metal keeping her arms immobilized. 

            Soon the cold air was raising goosebumps, the freezing metal of the scissors occasionally grazing her skin. 

            Paige tried not to react or squirm around; she didn’t want to show any weakness, but she also didn’t want those scissors to clip her skin.  She merely glared defiantly at Tony as he worked; the cutting eventually stopped, but not until her abdomen was exposed.

            “You’re going to _love_ what I found on my last trip to town.”  He set the scissors down with a click.  Tony reached into the box, pulling out a rolled-up black cylinder.  The sound of metal fasteners being undone.

            The object opened into a long sheet; Tony turned it around to show her. 

            An assortment of knives and scalpels glittered at her.  Paige hoped he didn’t hear the way her breath jumped as she inhaled.

            “Oh come on Tony, you’re not still mad about that, are you?”

            “Am I _mad_?  Of _course not_ love, that’s in the past.”  He set the display down, examining his options.  “I simply wanted to offer you some _critique_ for the future.”  He picked up a scalpel.  “For instance; I was _unconscious_ when you cut me open.”

            Paige hated the way her heart raced, unable to keep from breathing fast and shallow, unable to tear her eyes from the glinting weapon hovering over her.  The metal around her wrists was barely even flaking; he _had_ to wait.  He had to gloat more.  He wasn’t going to make it to _actually_ cutting her open; she was going to get out and turn this on him.             

            The bright light above her was blotted out when Tony leaned over her, amused.  The freezing cold tip of the blade touched to the bottom of her sternum.  He couldn’t keep the smile off his face.

            “You _also_ anesthetized me.”

            The razor-sharp edge pressed into her skin, and sunk through with no resistance.

            Paige froze, not wanting to give that bastard the reaction he wanted.  She fought the instinct to writhe around away from the blade; that would only make it worse. 

            Blood had begun to well up as he traced a line down her middle, when he stopped with a displeased hum.  The scalpel clicked down to the table.

            She should say something scathing.  She couldn’t think.  Panic was beginning to gnaw at her.

            He held his hand up for her to see.  Blood had seeped onto the fingertips of his glove.

            “Rude, dear.  These aren’t easy to clean you know.” 

            “G-Good.” She hated the way breathless panic had tinted her voice.

            “ _Hmph_.”  Tony huffed, removing the bloodied glove.  He brought his other hand to his face, pulling the unstained glove off with his teeth. 

            She turned her head to watch him as he stepped away, beginning to carefully roll his sleeves up to his elbows. 

            _But_ _his shirt’s already red_.  She thought distantly. 

            The cuffs around her wrists were just barely getting rough inside.

            He reached out to her face, gently brushing her bangs out of her eyes.  Paige’s teeth snapped together almost painfully as she tried to bite him, his hand jerking away too quickly.

            A grin grew across his face, and he chuckled at her attempt.  His fingers curled back around the scalpel. 

            He brought it back to where he had left off, near the middle of her torso.  Paige bit down on the inside of her lip, the warmed steel sliding effortlessly down her abdomen to stop above her hip.  Tony began to hum quietly as he drew it down her side, perpendicular to the center incision.      

            Paige’s hands balled into fists, her nails biting into her palms; the chains went taught as she pulled at them.  Tony repeated the cut on the other side, and again higher up, along her ribs.  Every breath she resulted in a tearing feeling at her skin, no matter how shallowly she inhaled.

            But this was…bearable.  She had made it through so far without so much as a whine of pain, and he wasn’t going to draw one from her.  The blade touched back to the top of the first cut.

            _She should’ve noticed_

He pressed down.

            _It wasn’t deep enough she knew it wasn’t_

Paige inhaled sharply, legs trying to kick up against the chains as the knife sunk into muscle.

            Tony sliced down, meeting considerably more resistance.  Paige couldn’t keep from writhing this time, only to be pressed back to the table by Tony’s free hand.

            “ _Fucking bastard_ ” She snarled.

            “You see?  Consciousness has its advantages.”

            Paige leaned her head back, refusing to watch herself be cut open. 

            By the time the cutting stopped Paige was trembling, glaring at the ceiling and drawing blood from her lip.  Every little twitch tore more muscle apart, and breathing was torture.  He couldn’t make her look, though.

            The hand holding her down finally lifted away.  He came into her view again, smirking.

            “How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

            “Just _fine_ , dear.”  She managed through gritted teeth.

            “That’s good, because we haven’t even gotten _started_ yet.”              

            He moved away, turning his attention back to the box.  She watched him, glaring and shaking.

            Tony dug around in the tacklebox, beginning to select various little silver instruments, lining them up on the table.  He brought one blood-soaked hand up to his face, giving his fingertips a slight lick.  His eyes stayed on the box of knives, and an almost imperceptible smile twitched at his lips.  He drew his knuckles over his tongue, revealing a dark blue stripe under the red, before finding the last thing he apparently needed and setting it beside the array of tools.

             Paige twisted her wrists around in the cuffs, trying to feel for any promising weak spots.  She stopped when he loomed back over her, making sure she was paying attention to him. 

            “I’m sure you’re _well_ aware of the issue blood loss presents; not to worry, because I’ve got some precautions.”  Another pair of scissors were looped around his finger- no…a hemostat. 

            She narrowed her eyes.  He gave a low chuckle and he moved down to her opened up abdomen.  Paige didn’t let her attention follow him, but she couldn’t keep from feeling his hands touching the raw edge of her sliced muscles. 

            Paige bit back an agonized groan as he poked around, looking for something to use the hemostats on. 

            “M-maybe if your cuts weren’t so fucking sloppy, you wouldn’t need those.”  She hissed through gritted teeth.

            “Nice try, love.”     

            Paige inhaled sharply, muscles tensing as the locking mechanism on the tool clicked, the cold metal lying intrusively against her ribcage.  She counted four more being clipped onto her before he was satisfied.  Each was dug deeper than necessary into her tissue, and she could feel every pulsing blood vessel they were keeping shut. 

            “Now then…”  Tony murmured, mostly to himself.  His hand hovered over the instruments, deliberating.  “What do you think you’d like to lose first?” 

            “ _Go fuck yourself_ ” She snarled, panting slightly.

            “I don’t think you have one of those.” 

            Paige stared up at the ceiling lights, letting herself be blinded.  She refused to look at the blood she could feel running slowly down her sides to pool under her. 

            “Come on now, aren’t you always the one wanting to experiment?  Aren’t you _curious_ about how our bodies react to conscious organ removal?”  He purred.

            She kept quiet; there was no way she’d be able to keep the pain out of her voice. 

            “Leaving it up to me, then?  How sweet of you to have such faith in my decisions.” 

            Tony slowly circled around the table, every step deliberate and unbelievably irritating.  He got to the left side, and gave her exposed muscle a gentle but firm poke.

            “A kidney to start with, then.”  He said as she twitched in pain, mouth shut tight against any sound.

            Paige poured her concentration into the holes rotting into the metal, rather than Tony reaching into her abdomen.  He chatted incessantly on as he worked, just moving her other organs out of the way; it wasn’t painful just yet, aside from slight nudges at the edge of the incisions. 

            “Now, humans can go on living _just fine_ with one kidney removed.  Do you think _we’ll_ consider one kidney necessary?"  The clatter of metal instruments being picked up.  “Do you think your body will try to heal it?  How long will it take?”

            He actually sounded _interested_. 

            “Dearest,” she caught a glint of red-speckled silver drifting through the air as he spoke.  “I notice that you haven’t quiet screamed yet.”

            She wanted to snap back with an insult to his torture skills, but she feared her voice would betray her again.  She glared blankly up, trying to look more angry than pained.

            “Not even a little yelp.”  She couldn’t wait for these shackles to burn through so she could choke him to death with his stupid fucking bowtie.  “Impressive, I suppose.  But _boring_.”

            Agony accompanied the clipping noises of more hemostats locking; Paige writhed back, whimpering noises resonating in her throat, muffled by her locked jaw.  Soon there was cutting, and Tony’s careless knuckles brushing along the raw, sliced muscle.

            “Come on now, I can _see_ how your breath is hitching.  It’d be much easier to just yell out, wouldn’t it?” 

            The metal cuffs were burning well; not enough to break _yet_ , but it wouldn’t be long.  She didn’t look forward to holding her organs in until she healed up, but the surprise would give her enough of an edge to kill the bastard.  After that she’d just have to wait until her abdomen closed, and then she’d be able to drag his body into a junkyard.  Maybe she’d stuff him in a car about to be crushed…

            Tony started humming again, searing hot pain jolting through her as he carefully cut through tissue and clipped blood vessels, refusing to let her bleed out.  His arms were red halfway to his elbows, but she wasn’t even feeling lightheaded.

            Paige was barely breathing as his hands moved around inside her, feeling far too cold.  Eventually he pulled.

            She didn’t have to look; she knew.  She could feel the suddenly empty cavity in her side.

            “Well, let’s see what happens now.”  Tony dragged a chair forward, and sat down.   “How does 15 minutes sound?  If nothing happens after that, we’ll try taking something else.”

            A rustling noise.  His hand entered her peripheral vision, bright red and dripping.  She flinched when someone was placed by the side of her head with a _clack_.  It _ticked_.

            She turned her head to look, glaring first at the blood-smeared pocketwatch and then at that fucking smirk. 

            She lied there, furious.  She supposed it hurt less without his hands digging around inside her; the pulsing agony of her butchered midsection was still there, but at least it was static. 

            “Oh, that reminds me.”  Tony reached up, over her head.  He took hold of the cuffs around her wrists, his face hovering over hers, hair slightly disheveled.  He gave her a tender smile.  “Did you think I wouldn’t notice, love?”

             Paige’s glare melted into widened eyes as the holes she had worn into the metal began to close up.  Soon the cuffs were perfectly smooth; pristine, like they’d never been used before.  She wanted to curse, call him ever vulgar thing she could possibly think of; if only she could think of anything.  Her heart slammed wildly in shock; that was her _plan_.  That was her _way out_. 

            Tony released the metal, leaning down to kiss her forehead.  She was too distracted to even consider headbutting him until it was too late, and he had already moved back to the chair.

            What now?  _What now?_   Her eyes darted around the kitchen, looking helplessly at knives that might as well have been miles away.  She jerked; impulsive, desperate, pulling viciously at the shackles- _it was a mistake_.  Paige froze with a choked gasp as a jolt of pain tore through her, radiating out from her abdomen.

            She clenched her jaw shut, fingers and toes curling in as she fought the urge to screech.  Finally the agony began to lessen, her body returning to its miserable baseline of pain. 

            “Oh _dear_.”  She heard Tony say.  “Look at that.  Your skin’s trying to close back up.  Right _here”_

            Paige’s exhaled sharply at the poke he gave to her side.

             “We certainly can‘t have that.”  The click of the scalpel being picked up again.

            Paige winced early, anticipating the pain; Tony obliged her.  Freshly healed skin was sliced open again with meticulous, slow cuts.  If he thought this was going to make her scream, he-

            _This pain was new_.

            It was _searing_.  Paige jerked her head up, looking down to the incision for the first time; was that bastard _burning_ her?  All she saw was a glossy red mess, the clean, shining silver of hemostats jutting out at different angles; but Tony hadn’t moved from her side.  Paige twitched up, body spasming with sudden, harsher pain before she could see anything else.

            Tony leaned forward, eyes glittering with interest.

            “What’s wrong love?  What do you feel?”

            “ _Fuck yourself_.” Pain cracked into her voice, giving it a desperate edge. “ _What the fuck did you **do**?!_ ”

            “Nothing else yet.  Tell me what hurts, dearest.”

            Paige’s hands clawed at the air, the pulses of agony making her mind go blank with white-hot intensity. 

            “Ohhhh, I think I see what it is.”  He purred.  “Look, the hemostat is _twitching_.  Your body is trying to shove it out of the way so you can heal.  That must be _unbearable_.”  He reached into the incision, and lightly touched it.

            Her mouth opened, and Paige inhaled sharply, arching back and blinded. 

            She screamed. 

            Paige screamed until her lungs were empty, and when she took another ragged breath she could hear him.

            “Absolutely beautiful, darling!”  He cheered.  

            He kept talking, but Paige couldn’t hear him.  Once she started, she couldn’t find the will to stop.  She cursed him, and kicked, and spat, but she couldn’t _stop screaming_.  The absolute agony of her insides struggling to heal kept tearing through her; it felt like every single nerve in her body was now in a full-blown panic.    

            She didn’t know how long he sat there and listened to her; elbows propped on the table, chin resting in his hands, that smug fucking look on his face.  It seemed like hours.

            Distantly, she heard him talking.  She didn’t care.  At least her howling was drowning out his arrogance, raw as her throat was. 

            Paige gasped in air, twitching up at the pain inhaling brought, when something cold and rough was slapped over her mouth.

            “Time to be quiet, sweetheart.” 

            She blinked in shock.  _How dare he?_

“That was very nice work, I have to admit.  But…”  He reached down, plucking out a hemostat.  Paige shrieked though the tape, the sound vibrating in her mouth, writhing in the pooled blood.  “I think we’re ready to try something _else_.” 

            That fucking grin.  She’d sew his lips shut.

            Tony rounded the table, dragging a line of her blood on the wood as he moved.  “Have you ever gotten drain cleaner on your skin, darling?  I’m sure you have.  You’ve seemed quite fond of it in the past.”  He shut the pocketwatch with one finger, delicately picking it up and tucking it back into his shirt pocket.

            Her heart raced.  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his.

            “I wonder how long you’ll last while it’s soaking into your viscera.  Let’s time it, shall we?”  He turned, slowly walking out of her vision.  “Stay right there!”  The laugh that followed came from further down the hall.

            Paige laid there, seething with anger and agony.  Drain cleaner.  _Drain cleaner._ She knew exactly which bottle he’d be going for, and she knew it’d dissolve her insides effortlessly.  Paige stared upwards, breath coming harsh and shaky through her nose. 

            She _could_ spit ink all over the tape, rendering the adhesive useless and getting it off her face.  But…what would that _do_?  The tape was irritating, and kept her from snarling insults at him, but the shackles were still completely intact, and any weapons were still far from her reach. 

            Footsteps strolling back at an unbearable pace.  She stared up at the ceiling.  Under the tape, Paige stuck her tongue between her teeth.

            “Do you know what _else_ I found?”  She didn’t look at him.  There was a clicking noise, and she saw a flicker of flame from the corner of her vision.  “The hydrogen produced by drain cleaner is _highly_ flammable.  You’ll try to stay with me long enough to see just how fast it can catch, won’t you?”

            She squeezed her eyes shut as he twisted the cap off. 

            “Oh!  Almost forgot.  Wouldn’t want to tarnish these.” 

            Paige had been preparing herself to bite down, but her jaw snapped shut involuntarily when Tony yanked another hemostat out.  Her teeth clicked together through her tongue, slicing cleanly through it without issue.  She jerked at the pain as blood flooded into her mouth.

            Paige braced herself, and swallowed.  If Tony saw red leaking out through the tape, he’d stop the bleeding.  She tried not to think about the piece of her tongue still in her mouth, and tried to keep up with the coppery fluid that endlessly filled her mouth in pulses.

            Tony hummed softly and continued plucking metal from her, assuming her erratic movement was due to the pain he was inflicting.  Each one clicked down to the side table.  She didn’t bother counting them.

            “There now.  I didn’t want to chance ruining such wonderful instruments.”  His voice seemed distant.  Between the gash down her middle and her severed tongue, how much blood had she lost?  Things were getting blurry. 

            Freezing cold liquid splashed into her abdomen.  Heat spread seconds later.  The numbness hadn’t quite hit yet, and a jolt of scalding pain made her gasp.

            She didn’t breathe in air.

            Paige started coughing as well as she could; she just inhaled an entire mouthful of blood, and that oh-so-familiar feeling of drowning took hold of her.  Metallic burning flooded her sinuses as she choked.

            Tony was up in a split second.  He tore the tape off her face, furious.

            Blood splattered out of her mouth when she choked, lips twitching up into a smile at the absolute rage on his face.  The room spun.

            “ _Don’t you fucking dare Paige_ ”  He snarled, grabbing hold of her jaw.  “ _Don’t you fucking dare!”_

Tony’s fingers forced their way into her mouth, but she didn’t have the energy left to bite him.  She didn’t even feel pain when he jabbed at what was left of her tongue, still gushing blood that spilled out of her mouth and bubbled when she laughed.  Her vision was tunneling, and she couldn’t stop laughing, weak as it was.

            He was still cursing when she slipped away.


End file.
